


Wolf Song

by TheRealRedRaven



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bang Chan & Han Jisung | Han are Best Friends, Bang Chan is Whipped, Bang Chan is a Sweetheart, Blood, Blood and Injury, Breeding, Brother-Sister Relationships, Brotherly Affection, Crying, Cunnilingus, Cussing, Declarations Of Love, Developing Relationship, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Forehead Kisses, Gen, Human-Werewolf Interactions, Impregnation, Injury, Injury Recovery, Kissing, Love, Love Confessions, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Men Crying, Neck Kissing, Other, Past Violence, Protective Siblings, Recovery, Sex, Smut, Swearing, Sweet, Sweet Bang Chan, Top Bang Chan, Vaginal Sex, Werewolf Bang Chan, Werewolf Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 20:34:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21514909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRealRedRaven/pseuds/TheRealRedRaven
Summary: Shock has the power to erase horrific memories that denial keeps trying to nullify with reason. However, what if it appears the explanation lies beyond the boundaries of the natural? And what if your brother’s best friend is the reason for the damage that has been done?Moreover, can human tears really be blamed for the crimes of a wolf song?
Relationships: Bang Chan/Han Jisung | Han, Bang Chan/Reader, Han Jisung | Han/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 44





	Wolf Song

Sometimes one can experience the extraordinary link between life and death when circumstances almost take away the former, leaving solely a corpse to mourn due to being rescued too late.

If help comes too late.

‘Is she okay? Please tell me she’s okay.’

Or a mind is saved just in time.

‘She’s fine.’ 

‘Let me see her.’ A familiar voice is on the brink of crying behind the closed door. ‘Please, Jisung, I need to make sure.’

‘She needs her rest. I could stop the bleeding before we got to safety but if I hadn’t been there you’d...’ 

Silence.

Speaking.

‘You’d have killed her.’

Loathing invisible fists.

‘Killed my sister.’

‘I- I didn’t mean to- I never wanted-’

‘I know, Chan. Let’s just wait until she wakes up, alright?’ There should have been hatred lacing the edges of the rhetorical question but there is not, merely genuine concern prepared to forgive. 

‘Jisung, could I... could I please wait at her bedside instead? I’m alright now, I think. I don’t feel the wolf anymore.’

_ Feel the wolf anymore? _

Beside the worry for a sibling, though, there is a graver version for it as well which is directed more towards an old friend than the injured party meant to be asleep. ‘Are you sure?’

‘As sure as I can be.’ Melancholia blends funnily with reassurance in the light voice that comes around the house often yet has never been conversed with properly. After all, when it visits, it is because of the resident squirrel and not his sister. She is but a third wheel, a sidekick. 

‘I’ll make some breakfast.’ Footsteps heading towards the stairs, turning around before ascending the steps. ‘Oh, and Chan?’ 

‘Yeah?’

‘We’re cool.’

The low chuckle sounds happier than it would have otherwise after a bickering fight, containing an odd sense of relief. ‘Good.’

Lashes flutter shut swiftly at the door clicking open and just as softly closing as padding feet approach. Wheels roll over wood, the fake alabaster leather desk chair pulled over to be put beside the bed. Touch is awakened by the warmth enveloping the hand resting on the pastel pink and mute grey sheets. And it takes all strength to not give away the truth by flinching thanks to feeling plush lips pressing against the back of it, safely wrapped in calloused palms speaking in a quivering heart-wrenching fashion. ‘I’m so sorry, Y/N. I never meant to- fuck. Why am I like this? Why can’t I fucking control myself?’

‘Chris?’ The act is broken up, sensing the heavily shaking shoulders barely suppressing sobs. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘I- I’m sorry fo- for waking you.’ Ashy brown locks might partially obscure earthly irises, but the shock running through the panicked sadness remains evidently noticeable. It makes digits ache to reach out and soothe the negativity yet refrain from doing so as it would be inappropriate.

_ I am a third wheel. Nonetheless, this seems personal. What happened that we’re like this? _

‘I’ve been awake for a while. Long enough to hear you and Jisung talk.’ A laborious and agonizing attempt at sitting up is made, which would have painfully failed had it not been for the veined hand acting as support. It holds the back in place while fluffing up some pillows to lean against, languidly guiding the spine in its soft descent and allowing the stinging in the sides and upper arm to nullify into a dull throbbing again. ‘God-fucking-dammit. There we go. Thanks.’

‘No need to thank me. It’s the least I can do since... since,’ a deep shivering sigh hardly manages to conceal the crack in speech, ‘since it’s my fault.’

‘How do you mean?’ A weak encouraging squeeze asks the fingers still holding on to spill the beans, clarifying what has possibly caused this fuss resulting in heartbreakingly upset messy strands.

_ I don’t feel the wolf anymore. _

However, the explanation can barely be registered by logic. ‘I’m a monster, the reason you’re wounded. I couldn’t lock myself away fast enough.’

‘Lock away? I don’t understand. We had a good night, didn’t we?’ It was a simple movie marathon with the boys, sitting around the glass table set for three and eating ramen and tteokbokki together.

Withal, that was before. 

Before the claws.

Before the fangs.

Before the blood loss.

‘I should have gone earlier. If we’d gone out on that stroll later, you definitely could’ve... could’ve-’

It takes some uncharacteristic audacity, but with a soft tug on the hand still held Chan is pulled against the chest. Fingers disentangle as one pair caresses ashy brown locks while free arms warily wrap around the middle, luckily just above the scarlet indentations. ‘Shh, whatever happened, happened.’

‘Don’t say that. Please, don’t say that.’ The big nose often unconsciously tempting to be kissed nuzzles the collar bone, pressing tears into the skin. ‘Wha- What do you remember?’

‘Nothing but fragments.’ It is the truth, solely reminiscing shards of glass and strange night-shaded fur floating to the surface of the memory of furrowed brows. Everything passed in a lightning fashion, too swiftly to recall anything accurately and worsened by shock. 

‘Not me transforming?’

‘Transforming? Chris, what are you on about?’

_ I don’t feel the wolf anymore. _

‘Wait, I heard you say something about a beast living within you, but surely you aren’t... no, that’s ridiculous.’ Clinical lycanthropy is a real phenomenon, not the monsters the patients imagine themselves to be. 

‘No, it’s not. It’s real.’ A clash of heads is barely avoided as ashen locks rapidly retreat, staring wide-eyed at a disbelieving face. 

A light shake clears the vivid imagery pushing through the veil of shock to paint a moving repeat of last night. A false depiction of what happened. ‘I tripped over my own feet and crashed into the glass table. That’s what happened.’

‘Y/N, don’t lie.’ A trusted palm dusted lightly with dark hairs cups the cheek in an uncharacteristically intimate fashion. Withal, it is merely a friendly gesture, devoid of meaning. There is nothing between us. Yet, the pleading tone holds the suggestion of having more value than originally thought although thinking is hard when one is aching. ‘We both know that isn’t what happened.’

‘Chris, you’re not a werewolf.’ Brows knit together in confusion, thinking that if anyone should be delirious it has to be the actually injured party. Nonetheless, the assumption is far from the truth judging by the caressing thumb of melancholic earthly irises. 

‘I am. You know I am. Why do you think I have kept my distance?’

‘I simply thought you didn’t like me all that much. Merely saw me as Han’s sister, tolerated me for his sake.’ Never had there been an actual conversation or a proper vis-a-vis like now, always looking away or simply humming in vague acknowledgement while feigning interest. The spark of hope erasing every other heartbeat is unjust, the storm of butterflies raging in the stomach bound to fade away instantly in an emotional negative tornado. 

‘No. Jesus, no. I have always liked you. More than that, I am crazy about you since you stumbled down the stairs in one of your brother’s hoodies when I first dropped by.’ Ashamedly, the cheek is left in the chill of the rain blowing in through the crack of the slightly opened window, though the blankets do not provide as much warmth against it as the bubbly giggle falling from roseate lips. ‘However, I have to say that that black hoodie suits you way better.’

Likely done when unconscious, Jisung has replaced the bloodied tight-fitting alabaster shirt with a V-neck - put on in the vain unconscious hope to be noticed - with a favourite piece often dressed in upon coming home regardless of the weather. It might be oversized but it is basically what a comfort blanket might be for others. ‘This one? The one Han got me for my birthday?’

‘It wasn’t him who gave it to you.’ Teeth bite down on the bottom lip shyly looking away, fingers fumbling over each other as words come hesitatingly and stumbling. ‘You just never got the note. It’s from, well, uhm, my own wardrobe.’

At once, cheeks feel as if they burn like fire thanks to the confession and so the collar of the piece of clothing is pulled up to hide them. Withal, for a split second, they are shown again when remembering where the hoodie stems from only to conceal themselves in it again for it is the safest place to hide. The other safe haven is beneath the blankets, but it would look incredibly weird to sit across from Chris like a pile of sheets or, rather, a cheap-looking ghost. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? Although, never mind. You wanted to keep your distance.’

‘Only to prevent exactly what happened. I wanted to try getting closer to you at last but stupidly forgot last night was the night of the full moon.’ The timid digits no longer struggle with one another, instead having found a new sort of purpose by plucking nervously at the duvet with an averted sullen gaze. ‘You must hate me.’

‘No, I don’t.’ There is a prominent musky scent as fingers soothe the ones clenching the blanket, folding around them to make the mental ungrounded agony stop. ‘Look at me.’

Because, after all, it is still him.

Still the same koala-like nose.

Still the same kind character. 

Still Chan.

‘Babygirl, you-’ The eyes heeding the command widen in shock. The racing heart starts fluttering, floating just as it has calmed down before the slip of the tongue. ‘I- I mean, Y/N. Y/N, you-’

‘You’ve never called me that before.’ The notice comes out on a breath, sounding ridiculously delighted in spite of it not meaning anything. There is nothing but vague friendship between us.

That is all there is.

Or mayhaps not.

‘I- God, this is embarrassing, but- well- uhm, I have many times. But only... in my head.’ All nervousness fades from digits, a warm smile forming as confidence is found. ‘It’s what I call you before everything goes black and I’m lost.’

‘You think of me?’ The novel confession spreads the hot glow of content further throughout, overjoyed at the love which has been hidden until now likely being reciprocated

‘All the time. Even more so on the nights I’m a time bomb.’ A mirthless chuckle sounds in the hush, mocking the violence living within. 

‘Since when?’ The question has a double meaning, inquiring about the length of the crush and the age of the beast beneath the skin of alluring musky chocolate milk locks. 

‘I’m born this way, but it’s actively been going on since I turned sixteen.’

‘And we met...’

‘The day after.’ A lop-sided smirk forms on a kind whispering mouth, shoulders briefly rising and falling with a barely suppressed airy giggle. ‘Yeah, that long.’

‘Four years. Four years and you didn’t say anything. Then again, no never mind.’ What wants to be said is swallowed, too afraid of the confessional impact to continue talking. 

‘Then again what? Tell me.’

‘I didn’t say anything as well. Because you’re my brother’s best friend so I thought it’d be awkward if I would make it obvious I liked you.’ Hence is why the abyss was never fully bridged, always stumbling back after daring to set a step forward. Silencing any topic of conversation popping up in thought each time, the amiable though distant hush had been maintained thus far.

But sometimes the establishing of bridges is merely a matter of time. 

‘In a way you did by wearing that hoodie each time I dropped by.’

‘Not consciously! It’s simply my favourite piece.’ Lips purse in defiance, coaxing out a giggle and earning a feverish kiss on the back of the hand. ‘Even more so now that I know where it really comes from.’

Which is followed by an equally hot kiss on the forehead as we both lean in, palms letting go and settling on thighs. Securing each other in a little world of our own, needing nothing else. ‘You have no idea what hearing that means to me.’

‘Chan, whatever you think, you’re not a monster.’ Mouths brush over one another, the nose suggestively nudging the young wolf’s with the underlying suggestion to go beyond chaste actions. ‘You’re not.’

‘Don’t tempt me like this, babygirl. You need to rest and eat some breakfast.’ The grip on the thigh tightens, body contradicting words and betraying having taken notice of the slight shuffle towards the edge of the mattress. Voice has reduced to mesmerizing growling, invoking imaginations that the tone is possessive and meant for a selfishly dreaming girl wanting everything too fast. Although, perhaps it is quite an innocent fierce longing since this is the first time a crush has been answered, not that the emotions simmering within have ever been turned towards somebody else. ‘I’ll go check if Jisung is done cooking.’

‘Please, stay a little longer. We can eat later.’ Fingertips trace the sharp jawline and rise to the cheek where they draw undefined intricate patterns. ‘Just a few more moments.’

‘Really, it’s better if I should go entirely. I think... I think that, hmm~’ Lashes flutter close as the touch is leaned into, a peck on the wrist encouraging of keeping on going. ‘Think that the revelation, hmm, feels good. Reve- you smell incredible. Uhm, yeah, revealing I’m a werewolf is more than enough.’

Unfortunately, the happiness of intimacy does not last as eyes spring open unexpectedly and remove themselves in an instant. Clumsily, the ivory desk chair is rolled away from the bed and gotten up from with a grunting flinch. I’ll tell Han you’re awake and- hrm.’ 

The cause of the hurt is obvious though it does not invoke any personal awkward feelings thanks to having a brother and thus having witnessed the manly problem many times. In contrast to the familiar atmosphere of the situation, this time bold sensual anticipation overtakes demeanour bit by slow bit. 

Fortunately, it has not influenced voice, which remains seriously steady. ‘Uhm, Chan? Are you alright?’ 

Nonetheless, it has to be said there is a difference between a sibling having to deal with the issue in comparison to Chan dealing with the very same problem. Namely, that in the case of the latter, the mind runs wild as fancy causes an incredible heat between thighs rubbing against each other to find some secret relief as the heat overtakes all.

Which does not go unnoticed by irises turned into basalt. ‘Yeah, it’s just that I’m- that I’m... in... season.’ The way of the tongue accelerates, awkwardness creeping into vocal and physical manner. ‘Anyway, I’m gonna go.’

The steps heading towards the door leave behind too cold of a lonely wake, instinct immediately urging to lunge forward to grab at anything that might lead to a reunion. Clearly, the wounds do not appreciate the effort, the dull throbbing increasing to a pain akin to being torn apart. Nevertheless, the agony is persevered through with hissing audibly, this being eventually what drives Chris to run back and force an eejit to lie in the same position as before. ‘Don’t do that, you idiot! The wounds can spring open again if you move too much.’

‘Sorry.’ Apologetic fingers brush over the arm draped over thighs, revelling in the feel of the soft dark hairs and hot pale skin. The sensations evoke a dreamy tone, glad to be warm again thanks to contact instead of being left behind in the rainy chill seeping from beneath the curtains. ‘You’re like a walking hearth fire.’

‘One of the advantages.’ Instead of pulling back the chair, the young wolf sits on the edge of the bed and affectionately runs his fingers through dishevelled locks. ‘I’m never cold.’

Sincere innocent happiness fades away into suggestion at the renewed closeness in a hypnotizing musky air. ‘Must be nice.’

A pained grunt disturbs the tranquillity when foreheads come to rest against each other and palms wrap around the buff biceps bared by the short sleeves of the onyx printed shirt. Nails dig lightly into the muscle, the action rewarded with a delightful low growl failed to be muffled against the lips. ‘Shit, the things I want to do to you.’

Teeth bite down on the bottom lips of closed eyes fancying what lies on the horizon, hoping speech is honeyed enough to reach it. ‘Whatever they are, I’m sure I can handle it.’

_ Too fast, this is going too fast. But... I want to. I want this. _

‘Not while you’re wounded.’ Through a crack in a lowered voice, the sweetness of the human beneath the influence of whatever beast he carries within shines through. 

‘You’re likely in more pain than I am at the moment.’

‘It’s not worth risking your health over, babygirl.’ A kiss on the forehead should silence the topic yet it does all but that, pouting in silence begging for what, apparently, cannot be. 

‘I don’t think anything’s at stake in my case, considering you’re the one trying to hump the mattress.’ The teasing demon creeps further into attitude and makes it starkly contrast with the exterior that had been shown for four years. Even the tongue is affected by the shift in the atmosphere, speaking after placing a sweetened kiss on a koala-like nose at last. ‘Bet you’d rather hump my leg or rut against my ass. Is that what you dream about whenever you’re in season?’

‘Yea- Yes.’ Hips futilely try to find friction in empty air, moving barely yet noticeably from peripheral vision. Teeth bite down on the bottom lip, hardly muffling any animalistic sounds erupting from the throat uncensored and increasing the temperature of two burning faces. 

_ God, he looks handsome even when he’s desperate. _

‘What do I wear?’ What is also endearing aside from finally having an answered crush, is the confession of being thought of even in a perverse manner. Not to say a corrupted sense of love is innate but it might be so regardless though it comes to full bloom as the years pass. Suffice it to note, too, that similar personal thoughts have oft if not always wandered to Chan as well. 

‘The hoo- hoodie I, ah, gave you and no- nothing underneath.’

‘Like now?’ It takes a wee bit of effort and awkward wriggling, but eventually, boxers are slid down the legs and tossed on the floor from under the duvet.

Like a true wolf, ashy brown locks turn to the spot where the discarded undergarments lie with a brief sniff of the air. Basalt irises glaze over with a dark haze as they turn back to cheeky ones feigning innocence, secretly satisfied with the hard to miss frenzy that is endeavoured to be subdued. ‘You truly don’t want this. It’s the influence of the pheromones I’m emitting that makes you act this way.’

‘Maybe. But maybe I want that hard throbbing wolf cock inside me?’ Weak hands pull at the jet black shirt clenched tightly, resorting to full begging and thus giving in to the sensual thoughts that keep spinning around uncontrollably. ‘Please, Chan~ I’m cold.’

All sanity is lost at last, all blankets pulled to the empty side of the bed in one rash sweep. The mattress dips under the additional weight of a chocolate milk wolf who remains enough of himself to carefully spread thighs, doing so after pulling up the hoodie that was once his entirely over the waist. 

Before any word can be uttered, all vocabulary is erased in an arched back experiencing the cherishing by a wet warmth never thought to feel this amazing. To show appreciation for the firm grip on thighs and act of pleasure, messy strands are affectionately caressed. ‘That’s it. That’s a good bo- ah!’

But the gesture is not received kindly by the youth driven to the brink of madness, canines sinking into flesh to silence the praise with a high-pitched squeak that, hopefully, will not rouse Jisung into bounding up the stairs. The tongue laps the crimson away, soothing the sting before placing an almost laughably apologetic kiss on the wound while growling. ‘I’m not your good boy. I’m your wolf, not some submissive pup. Understood?’ Frantic nodding is rewarded by a predatory smirk, enjoying the sight of being reduced to a delirious mess already. ‘That’s my good girl.’

The renewed satisfaction becomes grander as clear pleasure is found in the helpless mewls as any sliver of logic is erased sliver by sliver, the lover nullifying any trace the second it returns. ‘You taste good, babygirl. Shit, incredibly sweet.’ A rough lick by glistening lips makes the back arch even further, too overwhelmed by the sensation to notice the pain of the wounds. ‘Fertile. Yet, I bet you feel even better.’

Amidst the sensual chaos within, voice is found and found longing for a deeper connection instead of shallow howbeit wonderful teasing. Suddenly shy, a finger curls over the upper lip. ‘Only one way to find out.’

Chan rises from the end of the bed to loom over a body feeling very small though secure in the shadow of the blocked-out light. The tips of digits trace over the timid jaw, placing a kiss on the tip of the nose in pure affection. ‘I’ll try to hold back. Where can’t I touch?’

‘Both sides and the right biceps.’ A comic thumb gives approval of everything else, tone light when speaking up. ‘For the rest I’m good.’

Foreheads rest against each other in the hush filled by the distant sound of an unbuckling belt and jeans pulled to ankles alongside underwear. Although we both know what is about to ensue, Chris nevertheless huskily proposes a final way out. A path that does not want to be taken. ‘We can still stop.’

‘I don’t want to.’ Arms snake around the back of a heated musky neck, wanting the fever to heat a body aching to be touched and no longer take note of the rainy chill. ‘I want- oh, fuck!’

Inch by inch, fanned-out locks are tormented by the manifestation of unchecked desire, tears rolling down the cheeks hiding the truth of the happiness behind the connection. Instinct urges to fight the intrusion, sharp growls holding a concerned undertone buzzing against lips parted in a silent scream for mercy. ‘Try to relax, babygirl. You’re, ah, shit! Hah, heh, you’re clenching very hard.’

‘I’m sorry, it’s just that- dammit!’ Anew, the head is thrown back into the soft pillows as a pain worse than the one of ripped-open skin sears through every nerve. Meek palms clutch the milk chocolate wolf tighter, the feeling of being torn apart kept afloat by a grounding presence. ‘It hurts, Chris.’

A tear is kissed away on a worried whisper trying to suppress the animal beneath the skin, nuzzling the nose after erasing salt. ‘I can pull out.’

‘No, don’t! It’s not- It’s not because of the wounds but the stretch.’

Foreheads come to rest against each other once more, dark irises having gained a bright amber undertone caught between humanity and beast. ‘There’s no rush. Breathe. I’m almost in entirely.’ Nails dig into broad shoulders as the last bit of the physical abyss is bridged. A kiss under the jaw distracts from the odd sense of fulfilment unlike any of its similar emotions. A calloused hand dusted by dark hairs vaguely scented by pine leaves and soil caresses they cheek affectionately, its counterpart clenching the nearest pillow for support. ‘Ha, there you go. I promise it’s gonna feel good.’

Hips maintain a calm steady pace only for a few moments before the wolf is driven mad by being kept subdued in its chase for primal ecstasy. Nevertheless, through the snarled praises and smiles breaking up kisses, there remains the same boy who was met four years ago. The same guy who has dropped by on more than one evening to cook dinner, was there during both Jisung’s and personal graduation ceremony like we were there for his, has always shown up on our birthdays as we always do on his. 

It is not the creature of the night. 

No, the ashen locks throwing their head back while growling, though the sound borders more on purring, when not resting in close comfort to a girl with love or placing bites on the throat, licking away carmine, can only be one person.

Chris.

‘You’re beautiful. God, our pups couldn’t have a better mother. But... but-’ Unexpectedly, a crack breaks down the wild demeanour and brings a floating mind down enough to rationally register the grave attitude of watery darkened amber making love instead of mindlessly fucking. ‘I- I’m so, so sorry. Fo- For hurting you. I guess that- Your scent must’ve- I can’t remember. One moment I was holding you and the- the next... nothing makes sense. I- I wanted to bring u- us here, hrm, grm, to this point when y- you’d be ready for it. Only if you- you’d like me back, of course.’

The memory of being close must have been erased thanks to the shock and rapidity of events, but one thing has remained certain throughout. And this unwavering point has to be made to the panting face hiding in the crook of an attacked neck, warming it further with tears. Henceforth, palms envelop salt-streaked cheeks and forces for brighter doubting and apologetic gold to see the truth in entirely human honest eyes. ‘I do like you. A lot. Always have. From the- the, ah, the moment we met.’

‘Even when you know what I’m capable of? Do you still want a pack, uhm, wait, that was-’ A snarl rolls from the tongue at the ever-going pleasure, the season not allowing the man beneath the animal to prevent the alternate ego from continuing its bloodline. ‘A family. D- Do you want a family with me?’

‘One day, Chan.’ A kiss on the bridge of the nose is followed up by one on the forehead, both received with an audible rumble bordering on a purr. ‘Let’s take it one day at a time.’

‘You’d look pretty, though.’ A low chuckle is fueled by the futuristic ideal, adorable even though its full conviction is not yet nullified. ‘Belly round, breasts swollen. Glowing brighter than you do now.’

‘We’re still young, Chris.’ A peck is placed on the inside of the wrist, fingertips rubbing through the thin hairs on the veined arm. ‘Later, later we can have a family of our own. Not now.’

The chin is turned back towards illuminated gold, the wolf and boy both already dreaming happily of what will be on the horizon. ‘I’ll hold you to that. One day. You. Me. And our little cubs.’ Every word is accentuated by a sharp thrust, reaching deep to sprint across the last distance to a joyous blank second. ‘One day.’

Lips pressed against each other, it takes merely three more thrusts for both minds to tumble into oblivion and forget everything for a few blissful moments. Musk fades away into a vague forest and fresh deodorant though a trace remains, kisses become lazy as closed lashes steadily regain vision and open to those of the one who has been wanted all this time.

The kind hands of fully human earthly irises help put on the discarded boxer after retrieving a towel from the wardrobe and gently clean up the alabaster mess, each movement making up for the discomfort of breaking up the bodily spell. Once clean and somewhat dressed again, Chris pulls the blankets back over bare legs, drapes an extra fuzzy blanket over the shoulders and places a chaste kiss on the forehead. ‘I’ll go see how Jisung’s getting along. But... did it... hurt?’

‘Yes, though only in the beginning. You kept your promise.’ Fingers entwine and are pulled down for a quick playful peck on the lips. ‘It did feel good. Amazing, in fact.’

Sitting down, a content hum underlines the response, relieved at having kept the promise of pleasure. ‘I’m glad it did because I still felt as if I was too rough.’

‘You can let go next time?’ Though voiced as a suggestion, the certainty nevertheless seeps through. Of course, it cannot be known what losing control will entail but surely it cannot be that bad that it is life-threatening. 

‘Not until you’re fully healed and even then I might not. I’m still, you know...’ Teeth bite down on the bottom lip stuck on the end of the sentence, reluctant to finish it and let fragments of horrific memories arise from their jumbled maze. 

‘Chris, how many times do I need to say it? You’re not a monster nor do I blame you for the wounds.’ 

‘You should because I’m-’

‘Shh, let’s stop talking about this.’ Entwined digits are squeezed lightly before bringing them up for a kiss on the back of the wolf’s hand by a calm demeanour. ‘We’ll work things out one day at a time.’

The repeat of an earlier promise is managed with a sliver of a smile, twinkling lights dancing in eyes. ‘One day at a time.’

‘Now, be a good boy and-’ The joking albeit suggestive remark that was to be made gets cut off with an odd sound stuck between a shriek and a moan, ashy brown locks leaning in to sink sharp canines into the little skin which had not been branded before.

‘I’m still not your good boy, babygirl. I’ll never be.’ The more purring than growling tongue dances over the inflicted damage, soothing the pain as hands let go. ‘If I’m one thing, it’s your wolf.’

‘And my, uhm, my... boy... friend?’ Flustered hot cheeks barely dare to ask the question, doubtful of how to go from here after what has transpired. 

Fortunately, their hesitance is reduced to none by a hearty chuckle proposing the sweet yet unspoken vision also mentioned in primal madness. ‘Absolutely. Until, one day, I’m hopefully more.’

‘Then let’s wait for that someday with food.’ Lips pout at the distant long-stretched whine of an empty stomach. ‘I’m hungry.’

‘Oh no, I can’t have my girlfriend starve. Let’s see what’s cooking. Or, if he messed up, I’ll prepare something for us. Sadly, you’ll have to wait a little longer then.’ Chan moves away a bit to sniff the air for something that human senses cannot pick up. ‘Although, I think we’re safe. Han’s making pancakes and scrambled eggs. Even he can do that.’

The door closes after a final swift kiss, feet ascending the creaking stairs to the kitchen whence the vague sounds of calm conversation between two friends resonate. Lashes gradually unwillingly begin to flutter shut again, lulled into sleep thanks to the exhaustion of something wonderful and the warmth of the bed. Notwithstanding, a familiar chuckle goes accompanied by a renewed entrance and the tinkle of dishware in a breakfast air. ‘At least eat a few strawberries before you doze off entirely.’ The mattress dips under the additional weight as the serving tray indeed containing pancakes and scrambled eggs is put on a tucked-in lap.

‘Why are you sitting there?’ A palm taps invitingly on the empty side of the bed. ‘Get in.’

More obviously giddy than was likely meant to be made known, Chan gets up to walk over to the other side, a slight jump in the steps towards it. The blankets shift as a warm sturdy arm leans against one free of bandages, both helping to tuck in a new couple. ‘I could do this every day. Have breakfast, lie in bed together, working on music or watching dramas.’

‘I’d like that. Can we do the latter now? My laptop’s on the desk.’

‘You just got me to lie down and I’m comfy.’ By means of protest, the buff wolf lies down even more, nudging the arm to raise in order to replace the pillow with the chest to rest on as arms wrap around the waist just above the rough throbbing patches of broken skin. 

‘Please~?’ Despite holding the young man close, playing with pine and soil locks, the plead to send him walking one more time remains eminent. 

‘Only because you’re so gorgeous and I love you.’ The compliment is given strength by a nuzzle, the vibrations of low purring tickling the sensitive skin of the throat. 

‘Bootlicker.’

‘You know you love it.’

A roll of the eyes words the surrender vocabulary cannot or, rather, refuses to voice. ‘Shut up, you giant cheeseball, and get the laptop.’

Feigning discontent, Chan nevertheless gets up to grab the laptop from the desk and starts it up once fully snuggled into the blankets again, head resting where it had before while looking up a drama to start together. However, eating requires sitting upright in order not to spill any syrup and egg on the sheets.

Although, appetite fades fast as half-full dishware is put back on the plate and the ashy wolf turns onto his side, nose buried in the side of the neck as the leg of the girl worried at the little which has been eaten is caught between muscled thighs. Strong arms hold a frozen body close, muscles melting with every hot breath.

Because, apparently, holding back earlier results in transforming into a curious means to relieve frustration by friction. 

‘Uhm, Chan? Do we, I- I mean, d- do you need to...’ The sensation of hardening skin pressing against bared flesh distracts too much to be able to form coherent sentences. Henceforth, the plot of the series passes by unnoticed. 

Especially at the growling that rekindles the sensual warm wetness and cravings. Notwithstanding, there is an odd fierce denial that wants the digits which have slipped beneath the covers to pull up the fabric of the hoodie once more to stop. ‘Ignore it.’

‘But-’

‘I said. Ignore. It.’ The alluring snarling gains a threatening violent undertone that makes shoulders shiver as a flinch to the edge of the bed cannot be helped, nerves on edge with the urge to flee. Withal, the firm embrace tightens and the brush of stuttering lips searching for an apology gain a breathless higher tone as they speak. ‘I- I didn’t mean to sound like that. Babygirl, I- I’m not in control of myself and I’m so sorry for that just now. Please, don’t be ma-’

‘It’s alright, I know you don’t.’ A rapidly beating heart smoothes back brown messy locks and presses a sweet kiss on them before placing one on the forehead, aware of the truth behind the apology. To lighten the atmosphere to an amiable mood again, a fork is picked up with the unoccupied hand to clumsily gather some scrambled egg from the abandoned plate. ‘But I’ll punish you regardless by stealing your food.’

‘Such a shame.’ Although the sigh is sensual in nature, it is mostly humoured. Like the giggle that turns severe. ‘But, please, really ignore me for a bit.’

‘Do I need to pause the drama?’ Not that it would help either of us understand the storyline more. 

‘I- Fuck. To be honest, I, hah, haven’t been, ah, paying attention.’ The dry advances intensify in strength, the mind slowly descending into primality again. 

‘Me neither.’ The device is shut down and put on the floor like the serving tray containing the remainder of the shared breakfast. It takes a wee bit of effort and the risk of broken porcelain alongside open wounds, but the reward will be worth it. ‘This isn’t working. C’mon. One more time.’

‘Are you sure?’ Doubt creeps into delirious attitude, hips continuing to snap despite trying to sound rational.

But seems to be nullified as the question is cheekily repeated, certain about the decision to pursue renewed sensual wanting. ‘Are  _ you _ sure?’

‘You’re asking this of a wolf in season. It’s almost embarrassing to say yes. More than that, even.’ A nudge is followed by a suggestive peck on the rough edges of the latest bite. ‘Take those boxers off, babygirl.’

Heeding they whispered command, limbs find one another again for a second round as underwear and jeans are discarded for the remainder of the day. Sighs and loud chants of the young man’s name sound in the room without a care for the brother downstairs, only silencing completely after fully unravelling thrice and dozing off in strong veined though harmless human arms.

Though the picture cheekily taken by Han and often looked at on the nights of the full moon tells of the opposite. It is Chan being the one to rest peacefully in the arms of the girl and sister belonging to a wolf instead of the other way around. Nonetheless, whatever the truth of the story is, it always ends the same.

Together.

One day at a time. 


End file.
